Interlude
by Ennee Gray
Summary: Starts with the aftermath of events in Chechnya. Follows through the months David searched for his mother and hopefully a bit beyond. The tale about how David and Griffin happened and where did Millie fit in it all. Answer to 100 fic challenge over at LJ.
1. Aftermath

**Summary:** David left Griffin trapped between transformers. So, what happened to Griffin?  
**Warnings:** Could be some language. Not enough slash'iness - but on the other hand, it's not exactly the right place for Griffin either.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.  
**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at jumperslash. The prompts I used - #5 battlefield and #6 abandoned but controlled.

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_**Aftermath**_

It wasn't long since he had been left here. He tried to jump and he failed. Again. It was hot. He was sweaty as if he had just come from a shower. Griffin absent-mindedly wondered if a couple of drops of his own sweat were going to end this for him once and for all. He tried again and everything became dark for a moment. He wasn't a fucking plaything that could be jumped somewhere. He could and he would come and go as he pleased. He tried again.

The scream that tore from him was drowned by the sounds of gunfire and war yet it hurt a little bit less when he let that out. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stand if he were let down now. He could hardly see – recognizing where was the earth and where the sky was far above his abilities at the moment. He didn't remember what he had said to David. It seemed like something important but there was only haze and pain in his world now. Maybe he hadn't said something important? He usually didn't. Griffin knew he was pretty bad with words but, hey – that's him. Everybody is entitled to have some flaws.

He couldn't move. He could hardly think. He could barely breathe. Every breath seemed to become less natural and more like a chore. The very air seemed electrified and it hurt. It felt like his lungs were going to turn into mush and he couldn't help but wonder if it would get better if he'd stop for a moment. If he'd just hold a breath or two, maybe the pressure would lessen.

He had been electrified before but there just was no 'getting used to'. He was bad with words and he found it hard to explain how exactly it feels. It was pain and fatigue but firstly – shock. When electricity traveled through a body every single receptor reacted, the brain recognized the sensation in less than a second and then came the pain. It spread from one place to the whole body till the person felt like escaping from their own skin. It fried a person from inside. It caused terrible cramps and finally if a person manages to escape with their insides and muscle tissues intact – there's the fatigue.

Fatigue, helplessness and desperation. Nothing causes depression like a nice, good electrocution. Griffin would have snorted if he'd been aware of his lips. He let out a shallow breath and closed his unseeing eyes.

It was night when he opened his eyes again. There were no stars; at least, he couldn't see them. Maybe it was his eyes – maybe he'd never see properly again. A light breeze of a chilly west wind caressed his cheek. He didn't know whether it was the night of the same day or some other already. He felt better. If one accepts general loss of feeling as being better. He wanted something to drink – preferably a soda. He needed water. He tried to shift into a bit different position - vain attempt to improve his situation. His movements were uncoordinated and his leg hit the transformer yet no sparks came from it. The power had been turned off. Awfully kind from the guys who couldn't take the time to pry him off, on the other hand they were at war and had other things to do. Once in a while one has to make some hard choices, some sacrifices. Weren't those his words? He should understand. After all, he was at a whole war on his own.

He was free to jump yet he had no strength left to do so. He lay trapped between the transformers like a puppet doll. A Marvel hero, indeed. David had used him. Griffin knew that yet he couldn't bring himself to be angry. Irritated, slightly offended, probably amused and generally annoyed, yes, but not angry. Still he supposed that he would deck the kid if he'd see him again.

He didn't know how long he laid there staring in the starless night sky, though it couldn't be too long, else it would be a morning already – when he started to feel his fingers. It wasn't much but he was pleased to know that he wasn't completely paralyzed. Along with feeling came soreness and itching and other aches. Moving his fingers seemed weird. It was like learning he had them all over again. Griffin huffed. Now that air came and left his lungs more easily, he could afford to do that. He was reduced to identifying with a newborn. That wasn't … good. That certainly didn't make him happy.

He was cold. He wanted to jump to the lair. He couldn't. Even if the paladins weren't there at the moment they knew of that place, courtesy of David, and it wasn't secret anymore. It wasn't safe. It couldn't provide him the protection he needed to recuperate. And he needed to recuperate.

Come morning the temperature dropped even lower. He really did hate the Chechnya. If for nothing else, then for the weather. It wasn't long until he was shivering from cold. Funny, how previously he had thought he was going to be a jumper barbecue and now he was something closer to auntie's frozen dinner leftovers.

He didn't pass out anymore although he would have preferred few more blissfully unconscious hours considering that it wasn't going to get warmer until sunrise. Griffin didn't stay to watch the sunrise. He jumped as soon as he could.

He collapsed in his bed in the lair. Old habits die hard. He was exhausted, cold and in pain. He couldn't think of another, better place to go to despite all the shortcomings the lair now had. He made a move to cover himself. All the paladins could come crashing in on his head and he found that he couldn't care less in the moment. He was home. And all he wanted now was to get warm and to get some sleep.


	2. Nothing Else Matters

**Summary:** David knows he used to be a fool. Is he still a fool? What happens after David jumped Roland to the Grand Canyon.

**Warnings:** Some language. The first part could be traumatic to devoted slashers.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.

**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at jumperslash. The prompts I used - #25 fear and #34 disappointed girlfriends face. In this fic is my first attempt at writing an erotic scene - consider yourselves warned. Also - this fic can be viewed as a sequel to Aftermath.

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_**Nothing Else Matters**_

He jumped. He stumbled and he fell. David fell on his face in the mess that once was a rather respectable library floor. He tried to push himself up but his strength was failing and he fell once again face down hitting his nose against the floor. He grunted but the sound was muffled by his unmoving lips and water.

"David?" Millie tentatively called out. She was cowering between bookshelves further down what was once an aisle. "David is that you?"

"Yeah," he said along with outgoing breath. He gathered what he had left of his strength and turned over so that he wouldn't be lying with a half of his face down in the water. After all that had happened he didn't fancy drowning.

Millie was by his side in less than a minute. "What happened? Are you alright?" she fired the questions rather rapidly. She looked him over, her gaze full of worry and took his hand into her own patiently waiting for an answer.

She was always like that. She always let people speak and spoke only when they had finished. She respected their thoughts. She was always unfailingly polite even when others were not. She had fierce sense of right and wrong even if she lacked the courage to stand up for what she believed in. She was a hometown girl. Millie was sweet, polite, warm hearted and compassionate young woman. Once upon a time she had seemed perfect.

David couldn't help but wonder if the worry she showed was out of politeness rather than because he meant something to her. They had had no contact for over eight years. The last time they had met they'd been teenagers and, yes, he had loved her. At least, he thought he had – he had been fifteen at the time, a lot of things had seemed different then. To be honest, David hadn't thought of Millie for years.

When shit had hit the fan – when Roland had turned up to serve just rewards his instinct had been to go home. And home he had went. Although his father had never been much of a father and the house was nothing fancy; it stirred the memories in him. The memories he had once gladly shoved in the furthest place of his skull. He had remembered Millie. He had remembered his love for her, if one can forget love in the first place. Before he had known that he could jump, she had been his vision of future. Now she was his vision of safety. Of a normal life. He supposed that somewhere deep inside he had thought that if he'd be with her, if he'd return to Anne Arbour - Roland wouldn't bother. That if he did that – Roland would forget it all and leave him alone.

He had been a fool. "It's okay. I'm alright," he said smiling up at her. "I just need a moment to catch my breath." As he gazed into the ceiling which was the only undamaged part of the library, he wondered if he still was a fool.

"Oh, okay," she quietly replied. Her gaze scanned the surroundings and a little frown settled between her eyebrows. "It would be better if we left before anyone comes in and finds out about this," her lips curved into a light smile as she looked down at him.

"Yeah," he took a moment before agreeing. While he just lay there, practically unharmed he couldn't help but feel as if he had forgotten something. There was this feeling of uneasiness in his stomach that had nothing to do with his last night's dinner. He didn't understand it. He had saved the girl, after all. Like a true Marvel hero. David sat up abruptly. He still _was_ a fool. An irresponsible, reckless idiotic fool not a hero. Heroes rarely leave their enemies to die, much less …

"David!" Millie exclaimed. "Is something wrong?" she asked reaching to cup his face in her hand.

Her tone seemed so warm, so friendly, so earnest and polite that the very sound of her voice seemed to make him sick for the moment. He didn't need her gentle ministrations. He didn't want them. He had to find Griffin. He had to save him! Involuntary David moved away from Millie and stood. "Is it okay for me to drop you at your mom's place?" he asked pacing forth and back.

Millie frowned. "Is something wrong?" it was obvious that she was suspicious.

"I don't have the time to explain!" David barked stopping and turning to face her. His eyes widened in shock. He hadn't meant to yell at her. "Millie, I'm sorry…," he pleaded with her.

She took a step back when he yelled. Millie slowly shook her head. "You always are," she quietly responded. She licked her bottom lip and seemed to contemplate for a moment. "At my mom's is fine," she said quietly but strongly although it was visible that she was upset.

David nodded and spread his arms welcoming her to his embrace. She hesitated for a moment before tentatively hugging him back. In a flash they were at her mother's porch. "I promise we'll talk later," he said, his face full of guilt and remorse. He didn't wait for her answer, jumping away a second later.

"Okay," she whispered to the empty air before ringing the doorbell.

NEMNEMNEM

David shivered. He had intended to jump to Chechnya, to the exact place where he had left Griffin yet he had ended up in the Arctic. They'd been here before the Chechnya. He gritted his teeth and tried again. He jumped a few steps ahead and stumbled on a block of ice. His breath started to come out in short gasps. How come this wasn't working? He tried again and this time he ended up in the Atlantic Ocean a few steps off of the iceberg.

Not being able to bear the cold anymore he jumped to his apartment. He threw the wet coat off of himself and started pacing around ignoring all the stuff that still lay on the floor. A CD cracked under his boot but he didn't pause. He couldn't understand why he couldn't jump. He couldn't understand why he couldn't jump to that particular place.

"Think, David, think!" he muttered to himself. Suddenly he stopped and drew a long breath. He needed to calm down. He walked to the coach and lay down. What was he worrying about anyway? About Griffin?! If there was somebody in the world who could take care of themselves it was Griffin. Griffin killed paladins. Griffin drove at high speed in the opposite lane and jumped a two tons heavy car at his convenience. Surely there was no reason to worry.

But had he been left trapped between transformers at a heavy war zone before? David's hands clenched into fists. Even if electricity wouldn't off Griffin a stray bullet could do that perfectly well too. David couldn't believe himself. He had been so absorbed in himself and 'saving Millie' that he hadn't even thought about what he did. And then he had the gall to even forget what he'd done.

Any minute could cost Griffin's life. David didn't know why it mattered to him so much yet he knew that if Griffin died tonight. If Griffin died because of his, David's fault – he would never forgive himself. David had pulled Griffin into this all. Sure, Griffin fought paladins but it was David that brought them on his neck so suddenly, unexpectedly. David was the one who had asked for help. For a superhero team up. And what had he done? He knew that he had used Griffin. He knew that now. If it was any excuse at all – David could say that then it had felt like the right thing to do.

David let out a shuddering breath. He needed to think for a moment. In the past few days he had gotten a lot of lessons. A lesson that there always were consequences. A lesson that he wasn't the only one. A lesson that you have to make most of the time you have. A lesson that … David closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want Griffin to become his next lesson.

There was nothing special about the place Griffin had jumped them to. It was Chechnya. It was a war zone. It was not enough for David to jump. He tried to concentrate on Griffin trapped between the transformers but the image kept slipping. The truck… He hadn't really looked at the truckr. It had been something rather random and South American. That wasn't helpful. The tank. To David all tanks were pretty much the same – that was most unhelpful. He leaned back into the couch and massaged his temples. He wasn't going to get up until he jumped.

It took him a couple of hours but in the end he managed it. David wasn't sure what exactly had triggered the jump. He had been going through the memory for what felt like millionth time and then – here he was. Stumbling over rubble in the middle of a war zone under chilling morning sun looking for a broken electricity line and Griffin. "Griffin!" he called out. "Griffin!"

Soon he saw the pillars and the transformers but no Griffin. It could indicate a hundred of different things but there was only one at the forefront of David's mind. "Oh no," he gasped. He rushed forward but there was no way he could have overlooked it – Griffin wasn't there. He was late.

David couldn't stop staring. Either Griffin was taken down and was dead or… David wasn't an electrician but he was pretty sure that the current that went through lines such as these was too strong for Griffin to jump away. After all, David had seen him try and fail with his own eyes. So either Griffin was … gone which was unlikely or taken to some local hospital. David had to find him. He couldn't leave not knowing. He had to find out what happened to Griffin. He. He just had to. He had to find Griffin.

It was evening in Chechnya when David just couldn't do it anymore. He had scoured the surroundings, the makeshift hospitals and camps. He had interrogated people asking for Griffin although he didn't speak the language. He was tired, desperate and losing hope. He was sad and angry. He didn't know what to do to make this better. When he stole he always left some kind of 'I'm sorry' note, which made him feel better. Now there was nothing he could do to stop his conscience from eating at him. Anyway he wasn't sure he deserved any discounts.

He had been up and running for almost two days now, he needed some rest. He didn't want to go home. He didn't think he would feel safe there nor could he bear the sight of his trashed apartment should he really look at it finally. He didn't want to go to Millie's. She would want to talk and David didn't feel like telling her anything just now, besides she was at her mom's now. That would be awkward. He turned and jumped to the lair.

The lair had been a rather cozy place but now it was a mess. Still, David supposed that he could rest here for a while. It was in the middle of a rather nondescript desert and he figured that it would take quite a time for paladins to find it - now that they didn't have the machine. Besides – if Griffin truly was alive, he'd come here – sooner or later. David smiled lightly imagining how pissed Griffin would be at seeing his place so demolished. He decided that he'll clean it up a little bit later. Now that he was at Griffin's place he simply refused to believe that the owner had passed away. The place seemed inhabited; surely, it would look gloomier if Griffin wasn't coming back.

David started looking around – searching for something that he could use as a bed. Rounding what looked like a rather random wall in a lair under a rock he found what he had looked for on all accounts. David didn't know whether to laugh in relief or grunt in anger. There was Griffin – sleeping soundly without a care in the world while David had spent hours jumping all around Chechnya looking for him.

He stood there for a moment in amazed silence before jumping to Griffin's bedside. He wasn't sure whether he could trust his eyes. He needed touch him, to feel him – he needed to know that this wasn't a mirage which is often occurrence in the deserts. David tentatively reached out to feel the pulse on Griffin's neck. There it was. Steady flow of pulsing blood. David let out the breath he had involuntarily held.

As tired as he was Griffin still was a light sleeper. He lay still for a moment, not betraying the fact that he had awakened and then suddenly reached out to grab the hand on his neck before opening his eyes. He blinked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

David was surprised by Griffin although not afraid. "You're alive," he breathed out with a grin on his face.

Griffin frowned while slowly sitting up in the bed. David's mug certainly wasn't something he fancied seeing so soon after waking up. He still wanted to deck the kid but if he did that now it wouldn't be half as effective as he wanted it to be. "Yeah, lucky me," he grunted back releasing David's hand. He rubbed his face with his palm. "So, what are you …" Griffin was interrupted when David's arms suddenly went around him and David murmured against his lips something akin to 'Thank God you're alive.'

In between of trying to claim Griffin's unmoving lips and breathing - words out of David's mouth came mumbled and jumbled. The meaning was all the same – he thanked the powers that be for sparing Griffin's life. He held Griffin against him with his left hand while with the other he cradled Griffin's head. He hadn't planned on this. He had never even thought of any man that way but when he came in and saw Griffin… After all he had lived through and all the horrible scenarios his mind had run through in the last few hours – he needed Griffin.

It wasn't just because he needed somebody. It wasn't because Griffin was a jumper. It wasn't even to silence his conscience and make him feel better. It was simply because he thought he had lost Griffin. It was because he had missed him so much during the hours he thought him dead that now he needed him equally as much.

He kissed Griffin's face. His cheeks, the tip of his nose, his eyelids. "Please, say something." He pulled back a little but didn't let go. He wanted Griffin to react in any way – to say something, to return the affection, to hit him if that's what Griffin wanted just so that he would _do_ something.

He wasn't sure why and he could think of a hundred reasons 'why not' but he found himself wanting and if they both were willing then – wasn't that all that mattered? He didn't say anything; Griffin just grabbed David by his hair and pulled him into another kiss. He wasn't gentle, he wasn't accepting – he was demanding. He was telling with his kiss that he wanted this.

David smiled against Griffin's lips. Griffin rarely did what David asked him to do. He pushed Griffin back, pinning him to the bed with his body. Now that David's hands were free to roam the body under him, he seized the chance.

Griffin was faster. As soon as his back hit the bed he pulled, jerked until finally he ripped David's shirt off of him. David bit Griffin's bottom lip when he felt the fabric tearing. It used to be a good shirt. He moved so that he was straddling Griffin and tugged at Griffin's jacket. Somehow David was sure that should he try to imitate what Griffin did to his shirt – it wouldn't be appreciated.

Griffin was too busy with exploring the skin on David's back and reciprocating to his kiss to notice the tug on his jacket. Now David was growing impatient. He pulled off of Griffin gaining his unlimited attention. He tugged harder at the jacket, "Either you pull it off or I'll rip it off."

Griffin smirked and flipped them over pinning David's hands over his head. Now he was between David's legs, still fully dressed. He leaned down and in the manner their faces almost touched but he did not kiss him Griffin's amusement at the situation became apparent. David frowned, "What's so funny?"

"You," Griffin answered before kissing him. There's hardly a way to describe how Griffin kisses. He can tell more of himself in a kiss than he ever would with words. It's intense, overwhelming and it scares David a little. He isn't sure he can take it. He isn't sure that he deserves it. "But don't worry," Griffin whispers in his ear before pulling back. "You'll do just fine," he says taking off his jacket and shirt.

David doesn't waste time, as soon as the shirt is off his hands are on Griffin and he caresses and scratches and pulls him closer because it seems that Griffin is never close enough. He kisses him and he bites him because he is excited and scared and still a little bit angry for all the hours he searched for him, but mostly – because he needs him and he has no other idea how to get what he wants.

When Griffin's hand slip into David's jeans there are no thoughts about stopping, about making a mistake, about being afraid or something equally silly. All David can think about in that moment is that he wants something that he has never had before and that he wants it more than anything he has ever wanted in his life. There are no doubts just – 'fuck the belt, rip it off' and 'don't stop' and the fact that this feels so good and for once everything seems to be right in the world.


	3. Pretensious Stupidity

**Summary:** David can't let go so Griffin has to do it for him.

**Warnings:** Language.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.

**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at jumperslash. The prompts I used - #55 complicated and #42 don't let me go. This fic can be viewed as a sequel to Nothing Else Matters which is a sequel to Aftermath.

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_**Pretensious Stupidity**_

David opened his eyes and rolled on the other side of the bed. He didn't wake because he was no longer sleepy – hell, he felt he could sleep a week, but his side was just _burning_. Well, not literary burning, but it most certainly felt like he had cooked long enough in the morning, desert sun that shone in from some mystic hole in the wall.

It took a few more moments for him to realize that the bed was empty. Not empty per se - there still were sheets and a blanket and pillows and him, but there wasn't Griffin so for all purposes for David the bed was empty. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It wasn't a nice feeling.

He wasn't sure how he felt and he wasn't sure he wanted to pinpoint the exact feeling because to be fair – he was a fairly selfish person and hurting oneself wasn't high on his list of daily pleasures. David wasn't sure what he had expected but he knew that he would have appreciated it if Griffin had stuck around after what had happened. Nice manners and all, you know.

Grudgingly he stood up and started to look for his clothes. He would have gladly slept a few more hours but now that he knew that Griffin wasn't there he felt unwelcome – rather like an intruder or the occasional burglar – expected to take what needed and leave as soon as possible. He found his pants but his shirt was lost forever. David looked at the torn shreds of what was once a nice t-shirt with disdain and decided to leave it where it was. Griffin could keep that as a remainder or something.

He rounded the corner and walked into the main hall of the lair, if the space could be called so. It was empty, of course. There was nothing keeping him. David could jump. And by all means – he should jump. But strangely enough he didn't want to. He did feel uneasy and unwelcome but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He wanted to see Griffin. He wanted to talk. So he would wait.

Absent-mindedly he walked over a pile of CD's on the floor and started to organize them in neat stacks. The whole thing was confusing to him. He had betrayed Griffin. He loved Millie, or so he thought. He had ran himself ragged looking for Griffin. Finally he had slept with Griffin. One thing he knew for sure – the reason of his confusion was Griffin.

He was unsure of what was supposed to happen now. He finished ordering the CD's and moved to pick up some of the things that were littered on the floor. Arranging things made him calmer and also gave back some sense of control because otherwise – the whole situation was taken out of his hands. Here he was – playing housewife to Griffin because he could not simply leave again and because Griffin meant something to him and he just wanted to _talk _about it, damn it.

PSPSPSPSPS

It wasn't as much of a sound or disturbance in the air as a feeling that notified him that he was no longer alone. David didn't pause in his movement – he picked up the drawings from the floor and stood placing them on a surface beside. He didn't turn to face the other jumper who could only be Griffin.

There was a moment of silence before Griffin spoke in a rather gruff tone, "Do you want an apron?"

David turned to face him. "I want to talk," he said ignoring Griffin's rather scathing remark.

Griffin's expression didn't change. It was still unreadable to David. Most of the time David had known Griffin – the guy had one kind of an expression on his face. It seemed to be a mix of mild curiosity and amusement overlaid by a heavy dose of false indifference. No one could be that apathetic, David was sure of that, but he still couldn't see through the mask. So he watched as an unconcerned Griffin plopped down into a leather armchair which by the way David had previously cleaned of debris.

"What do you want to talk about?" Griffin asked turning his gaze to David.

The question wasn't completely unexpected although David couldn't pretend that it didn't hurt and anger him. "Don't pretend to be stupid." _I know you are not_.

Griffin huffed. "I think you're the one who's acting stupid here," he said and started to shift through his game discs which also David had arrayed. "Why don't you get dressed?" he asked leering at the disk as if he had never seen it before.

David wasn't a particularly patient person. Being a jumper let him indulge his flaw to extremity. He was getting angry. "You ripped my shirt," he replied indignantly.

"Oh," Griffin had nothing much to say to that.

"Do I mean nothing to you?" David wasn't sure of where that had come but out it was. It was a strangely vulnerable question and least of all he wanted to be vulnerable in front of Griffin but he couldn't help it. The more time passed the less he felt like the intruder and more like someone used.

Griffin put the disc back into the stack and turned to face David. He was silent for a moment, as if contemplating what to say and David started to regret his question. "I don't understand what you want," Griffin finally said. "What do you expect?" he continued his voice lowering for a notch in anger as he rose from the armchair and took a step forward. "A proposal? A long term commitment?"

Griffin was quite a few feet away from him but David still had to fight the urge to take a step back. He hadn't expected for Griffin to get aggressive. After the moment of surprise passed Griffin's anger fueled his own. "I expected you not to be such an ass," David said taking a step forward. "I expected some affection!" his voice louder by a few decibels than previously.

Griffin grimaced. "Like the same affection you gave all those one-night girls?" he asked his expression harsh. "Like the same affection you gave me before leaving me to God's mercy in a fucking Chechnya?" his tone didn't really match the harsh and unforgiving expression on his face. Griffin's voice shook.

David was disgusted by his reaction to Griffin's words – he trembled. He could leave any moment. He could end this conversation that had turned into a hurting argument. He had known Griffin for so little time and got involved so fast and Griffin could be just so hurtful. David felt like a tree doomed to stand in one place till he is hollow from inside out and the wind is free to scatter what's left of him. He opened his mouth for a few times to say something but nothing came to mind.

"Do you want me to leave?" David finally asked. It wasn't a question to which he wanted to hear an answer but he couldn't think of anything else to say and the silence weighted too much on him. He couldn't bring himself to leave but he wanted this to end. He needed Griffin to do it for him.

Griffin turned and plopped back on the armchair. He started to shift through the stack of discs once again. "I've told you before to piss off," he said slowly his attention solely on the discs.

David swallowed. He didn't glance around the lair for the last time. Keeping his gaze on Griffin for as long as possible he jumped.

"You never listened before," Griffin muttered and threw the discs against the opposite wall.


	4. In Between

**Summary:** In movies people skip from one adventure to another, in life - you have moments in between which often aren't in your favor.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.

**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at **jumperslash**. The prompts I used - #91 inadequate and #82 an uninvited guest. Unless said otherwise all my challenge fics can be considered sequent.  
Now, the movie ended when David found his mum, but that was in winter while when he 'saved' Millie it definitely wasn't so - as big as USA is I still don't think that it's possible to have two completely different seasons in it. So keep that in mind.

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_**In Between**_

David jumped back to his apartment. There really was no higher reasoning involved rather than instinct and a wish to crawl in someplace and not come out for a long time. His strength gave out and he fell backwards on his own bed. The mattress felt a bit rough against the naked skin of his back but he made no move to find some of his favorite silken sheets.

His bedroom was just as trashed as the hall downstairs. Previously he hadn't noticed that because he hadn't even come upstairs. He hadn't checked his belongings – what was taken and what not. Frankly, he didn't know whether he still had the apartment. The paladins could have said he was some wanted felon and confiscated it as a crime scene or something.

He had been so preoccupied with need to find Griffin; to save Griffin that he hadn't paid attention to anything else. He felt somewhat foolish now. It had taken nearly all he had to look for Griffin – and now he couldn't help but wonder why did he even bother? It was painfully obvious that Griffin didn't need anyone's help.

He couldn't repent the fact that he had gone after Griffin. Not really. David knew that he'd hate himself forever if he hadn't tried. He did lament the situation as a whole. If he had to put a name on how he felt about all that was happening, he supposed that 'inadequate' was the best word.

He was being slowly lulled to sleep by his own misery when the sound of a cracking glass startled him. He sat up in the bed and tried to make his breaths shallower and slower. He strained to listen what was happening on the other side of his bedroom door. He made out the sound of whispers and steps. Now, guests usually don't sneak around their host's house so there were only two options of who the intruders were and neither was appealing to David.

He jumped before the door was opened. Second later he was in a beach on Fiji. He took a few steps backwards and looked intently at the place where his jump scar was. It didn't seem that someone was going to follow him yet he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched. He looked around but the beach was empty and it was getting rather dark.

He turned and fled the scene. He run quite far before daring to jump again – he didn't want to be followed and he wasn't going to take a chance. If he had paused to think, he would have realized that the paranoia was Griffin's influence.

Next moment he was almost blinded by light. He blinked letting his eyes adjust at the sudden change of illumination. He was on the top of a pyramid on top of a safe. It seemed that Griffin hadn't returned to reclaim his property, yet. David frowned and thought for a minute. He had no real use for the bomb and he had lost the detonator somewhere in the middle of saving Millie and saving Griffin but he supposed that you never know. Besides he didn't want to leave a dangerous explosive to Griffin. Who knows what the guy might blow up; he pissed on Coliseum after all.

David touched the safe and jumped it to what he thought was a relatively safe location. Who would look for a safe of explosives in a basement of the castle of Chicken Itza? Besides it was a nice, dry place with constant environment which hadn't changed for more than two thousand years which meant that the explosive was unlikely to, well, explode. On the other hand, David didn't know much about explosives. He supposed that he will have to read something up so that he wouldn't end up accidentally leveling one of the new seven world wonders.

He stayed just long enough to make sure that no one would accidentally run across the safe and then jumped to his childhood house in Ann Arbor. He took one of his father's shirts vowing to go see him as soon as possible. The last he had heard his father was in critical condition. David wasn't overly fond of his sire but he did care whether his father lived or died.

He jumped down the hall to his bedroom. Previously it had been locked with heavy chains – he had heard them clinking, however now they were gone. He was disappointed to find that the money he had hidden there was also gone. He needed the money. He needed to renew his wardrobe and, hell, he needed to do a lot of things now – he wasn't even sure where to start.

He didn't think for a long time. He searched the house for a large bag or something alike. He found a rather big duffle bag and after emptying it of its content he jumped to one of the banks he had robbed in previous years. Formerly when he robbed a bank he never took all that was there – in cash or valuables, he always left something, as well as some kind of 'I'm sorry' note. Well, that was before – now he took all of the cash that there was and left no note.

He made a couple of jumps before finally storing the bulk of the money by the safe. While jumping to 'misguide' anyone that would follow him, he had picked up a nice backpack in Barcelona and now used it to put some of the money in it. Then he made a couple of jumps all over America before renewing his wardrobe at several rather esteemed shops in Chicago. By mid afternoon he was exhausted and starving. He couldn't recall his last meal and he could hear that neither did his stomach. He took a late lunch in Las Vegas and then slept for a couple of hours in a respected five star Moscow hotel.

It was late evening when he was back in Ann Arbor. He did owe Millie an explanation, after all. And he had to make sure that she was safe. He knocked on the door of her mother's house unsure of what the reception will be.

IBIBIBIBIB

"So," Millie stated sitting down on her bed. To be honest, she had expected of David either to show up quite earlier or never. She looked him over noting his clothes which looked brand new and overall appearance which seemed to scream that he was dead on his feet. "Are you sure you want to talk now?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," he said sitting down on a miniature couch by the window.

Silence settled between them. Millie hesitated to ask questions – she wanted him to tell the tale by himself. He was temporizing. He wasn't sure of what he was going to tell her – what if some of the things he could tell her would put her into an even greater danger?

"I'm a jumper," he started. "That's what it's called. I can jump practically anywhere if I can picture the location clearly enough." He paused.

"Have you always been… a jumper?" Millie asked slowly – tasting out the last word.

"I think so," he said frowning in thought. "Although I didn't know about it until I was fifteen. Remember that day in winter by the river?" It was a rhetorical question; he did not expect an answer. "That's when I found out I could jump. One second I thought I was a goner and then I was in the Ann Arbor public library," he said his expression contemplative as if he still had trouble believing that he had survived. That day had changed his whole life.

It took him less than an hour to tell her the summarized version of the last eight years of his life and explain what and why had happened few days before. Millie was a good listener, she always had been. She was attentive and didn't ask any more questions until after he was finished.

"What happens now?" she asked. She wasn't entirely sure what she thought of the whole thing but she sure liked to hear his opinion.

The events of the previous days were fresh in her mind and she seriously considered moving away from Ann Arbor and taking her mother with her. She wasn't a very brave person and although everything had turned out okay – she prayed that nothing like that would ever happen again. She also couldn't help but wonder what she would do if she were a jumper. Thinking of all the places she could visit put a slight smile on her face. And she pondered over David.

People had thought that she was in serious denial when she kept proclaiming that David was alive. Her mother had even considered taking her to a psychotherapist. Now he was here, in front of her, after completely trashing her apartment, most likely having no idea what his leaving did to her so many years ago and putting her in danger. She wasn't angry – this was definitely a change from the boring, common way of life she had led. She was put out by him, though. One would have expected that he would have forgotten all about her.

He frowned unsure of what she meant. "I think I'd like to find my mother," he said.

She nodded. A thoughtful look passed her features. "Can I come with you?"

"What?" his voice rose for a notch. "After all that happened…? I couldn't…," he paused rising from the small couch. "It would put you in danger, Millie. I… I can't do that to you," he said.

"Am I not in danger already?" she didn't want to know the answer to the question, but she had to ask.

David frowned. "As long as you stay away from me…," he started and abruptly stopped. He had had practically no contact with his father and he had been attacked nonetheless. "I think you should move," he said seriously.

His answer angered her. He voiced her own thoughts and as easy as it sounded in her mind as harsh and unyielding it sounded in the air. "Oh, now you think," she muttered. "You came here and turned my life for one eighty degrees and now you're dumping the whole mess in my lap," she said rising from her bed. She poked with her finger in his chest, "I don't think so."

"Millie… I'm sorry," he said, his expression apologetic.

She sighed and relented. "I'm coming with you," she said taking a step back to give them both some personal space.

"Millie, I told you already…"

"No!" she cut him off. "_You_ don't understand. You can't just come here and tell me what to do and that you're sorry that you messed up," she said. "You can look for your mother, but I'm coming with you. _My_ mother will be safer that way."

David sat back on the couch. He didn't like this one bit but he could see her reason. This whole mess was of his making and he had to try to make it all better. One step at a time.

"Besides," a slight smile adorned her face. "You will be able to take me to all the places I have always wanted to visit!"


	5. Griffin's Day

**Summary: **David is a mess in the otherwise completely organized and productive Griffin's life.

**Warnings:** Language.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.

**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at jumperslash. The prompts I used - #81 admiration and #96 which was a writer's choice which in this case is - 'getting used to pain'. For those who didn't take notice previously - **all challenge fics **_**(Interlude)**_** are sequent unless said otherwise.**

* * *

_**Griffin's Day.**_

Griffin sat still for a moment staring at the wall opposite to him. No profound thoughts circled in his head for those few minutes. If he were asked he wouldn't say that he hadn't known that David would leave. After all, he had done everything in his power to make him leave to the point of telling it straight out. He wasn't sorry for driving off David, not really. He was still annoyed at being left in Chechnya for dead and he still wanted to deck the kid and after last night he wasn't sure of anything anymore and he needed some time and space. David's presence just served to irritate him and make him feel caged.

He glanced around the lair and was mildly surprised to find that it was tidy. He knew for sure that when he had left the place had been a mess. He supposed he should have noticed it earlier - the discs that were so conveniently by his armchair were scattered on the floor before. Griffin found himself getting angry. Who the hell David thought he was? Messing in his life, in his bed and, finally, in his lair! Griffin sure as hell hadn't asked for the kid to come to him for advice, team up, hook up and general mess up. Not for once a thought that it was his own fault crossed Griffin's mind.

He rose from the armchair and raged for a couple of minutes making the place a complete mess once more. Finally he punched a wall and slid down to the floor nursing his hand which was probably broken now. His anger slowly abated and was substituted by pain.

He tried to never let people get close. They only messed with him and his stuff and when they left or where forced to leave, at which point it didn't really matter anymore because no matter how you look at it they still were gone, he stayed. Griffin stayed and memories of them stayed and as beautiful everlasting remembrance can be in poetry as screwed up, painfully numbing and hard it is in life. Every misplaced thing stood out like a beacon in a dark night to a sailor swimming through a thunderstorm away from the shipwreck in hope of finding a land only to never reach it. Every waking minute was cruel because one can never know when he shall be assaulted with a sudden flush of memories renewing the pain of separation until finally the anguish diminished and he felt less like a human because of it.

He had lost people enough times to never want to feel like that again. And as much as he wanted to believe what he had said to David - that he was used to losing people, he wasn't. It was one of those things a person just can't get used to no matter how good they are at self deluding. This is exactly why Griffin hated people and why he pushed them away. Up until now instead of leaving like everyone else David had pushed back but apparently even he had his limit which was just fine by Griffin. He wasn't going to go after David.

Griffin wasn't lonely. Being alone had become a habit for him a long time ago and breaking one's habits is a hard thing to do, especially, if said person does not want for things to change. Griffin rose from the floor wincing at the pain in his arm from the indirect movement. Sometimes he wondered where the whole thing about 'getting used to pain' came from because he could tell that it was a load of bullshit. Sure, he had learned to keep his mouth closed more tightly as the time went by but that didn't mean that it hurt any less. Of course, frying a few brain cells could go a long way to help with that but Griffin felt that the Paladins did good enough of a job on him in that specific area of expertise without his additional help. He jumped to some nondescript hospital to get his arm checked.

He walked out of the hospital admiring his arm. His arm was in a cast from elbow till mid palm like a really thick and rather weird fingerless glove. While Griffin would never really admit it, he was a rather artistic person and felt somewhat giddy at the prospect the cast offered for his creative urges. He had never broken anything in his body before. To tell the truth it wasn't a break this time either – few hairline fractures, but the doctor had felt the necessity for a cast.

He swung his arm a few times while walking down the street and relished in the whooshing sound that the movement made. He couldn't help but think that this could give a whole new meaning to the term 'concealed weapon'. Grinning like a kid on the Christmas Eve he turned into a seemingly abandoned alleyway and jumped.

The middle-aged homeless guy that had been sleeping in a carton box behind the garbage cans vowed to quit drinking before taking a mouthful from a dirty, dark green glass bottle and snuggling back into the rags, the he event witnessed a couple of seconds ago already half forgotten.

Griffin blinked letting his eyes adjust to the light of Egypt. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that there was nothing but him on the top of this particular pyramid. He frowned. He looked around and jumped to the next closest one supposing that he could have made a mistake and ended up on top of the wrong tomb however half-hour later he had to admit it. The safe just wasn't there and there was only one somebody who could have gotten it before him.

"David," he growled under his breath. "You son of a bitch!" Griffin yelled to clear, blue skies of the valley of the tombs of ancient emperors.

And come to think about it, with the cast he couldn't pull on his favorite leather jacket. "Damn."


	6. Dream Team

**Summary:** David has to play the hero, too bad Griffin is not a damsel in distress.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.

* * *

**Dream Team**

Millie was supposed to keep an eye on things outside, but she couldn't help glancing back at David every few seconds. His posture was relaxed, his gaze fixed on the screen of the computer and every few minutes his fingers would brush along the keyboard and he would lean just a little closer to the screen. He looked so confident and in control that she could hardly turn her gaze away.

They were in one of the more dangerous parts of the town in an office of a paladin. It had taken them weeks to find out about this place which was supposed to be a base hiding in plain sight for one of their most important unfinished cases. It wasn't exactly what they had been looking for, but they were taking everything they could get and moving one jump at a time.

It had taken David a few hours to crack the safety protocols on the computer and they were running out of the cover provided by daylight. They haven't found anything useful as of yet.

He was methodically looking through all the files on the hard drive. Up until now he had found a few coded mission reports, some financial data and a big nothing. Now a slide show of pictures appeared on the screen and the coded mission reports he hadn't understood previously started to make an alarming sense.

Millie sneaked another glance at David. His demeanor had changed in a matter of seconds. His body was rigid and he was radiating tension. "David?" Millie called for him in a whisper.

Millie's soft voice gave him the edge he needed to compose himself. "Just keep watching," he whispered back.

DTDTDT

"I don't understand," Millie protested. "Why can't I go with you?"

"It's going to be dangerous," David said. He didn't want to tell her the truth. He didn't want to lie to her either and she wasn't buying vague excuses. He squirmed under her gaze.

"More dangerous than breaking and entering into a paladin's office?"

"Yes, maybe, I don't know…," he sighed. "Look, I may need to leave quickly and we can become separated and I don't want anything to happen to you, so would you just trust me on this one?"

"This has something to do with what you found on that computer," she said. Millie wasn't asking – she could read it in his face. Maybe it was the childhood they'd spent together, maybe she was simply good at reading people, but Millie always more or less knew what David was thinking.

"Yes," he admitted. After eight years of complete, unrestricted freedom of action and movement, he often found her constant questioning both endearing and annoying.

"And you won't tell me what it was," she stated.

"Millie," he took on a pleading tone. "Just, please, stay here, I'll be back."

"You better be," she huffed and turned to go to kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Her movement put an end to the discussion.

"So, you'll stay here?" David called to her back. He had to clarify.

"Yes," she replied sharply. She would play along, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Thanks," he said sincerely and jumped away.

DTDTDT

He dropped the menu down on the table and waited for reaction. The man at said table took the menu and didn't even glance up. David narrowed his gaze. That was sloppy. The man in front of him was absent-minded and sloppy. The man David knew him to be could afford to be neither. David folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"I'll take steak, rare with fries and beer, any," Griffin said not even looking up from the menu.

David said nothing. He stood there and waited to be noticed – recognized.

"Hey!" Griffin called out a few minutes later, finally fed up with the unmoving waiter. "I said I want..," he stopped when he looked up.

David smiled tightly and took a seat across Griffin. "You need a knock on the head. You're sloppy."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm glad to see you too," David shot back. "You should be more careful."

"I'm _fine_," Griffin growled. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Warning you," David replied. Last time they talked it had really gotten out of hand and, granted, it had been David who turned tail and ran, but it had been no less Griffin's fault than it was David's. They both had had hellish few days and one thing led to another and, well, David was resolved not to let his temper get the best of him again. At least, not until he had said what he came here to say.

"The steak's horrible?"

"You're being followed," David said. "I don't know how they found out, but they've been watching you here for a while and they're planning to act on it. Soon. Today, in fact."

"And you're telling me this why?"

"We were a team," David said quietly, but confidently. For a night they'd been so much more, but it was painfully obvious that neither of them was ready to face the truth that had been left naked after Chechnya and later buried again in the scorching Sahara sand.

"Yeah," Griffin snorted. "A fucking dream team."

David flinched at the harsh words and missed the wince on Griffin's face.

"I know they were watching me," Griffin said. "I've been watching _them_, waiting them to make a move."

"Why?" David asked.

"How else am I supposed to gather info?" Griffin replied relaxing in his chair.

"Oh," David didn't know what to say to that. It definitely explained the fact that the paladins had managed to set up surveillance on Griffin. He felt rather foolish now.

"I appreciate the sentiment, though," Griffin said a moment later. "And now you should go," he said motioning with his hand towards the door.

The surface of the table was cool under his touch. "Why?" David explored the texture of the table with his fingertips in an effort to hide his nervousness. He didn't want to appear edgy.

"Did you take 'stupid' juice this morning or what?" Griffin asked harshly. "Go back to your girlfriend and take her to the Taj Mahal or something – leave the paladins to me."

The tone of Griffin's speech was eerily familiar to David. He frowned. "The paladin might have some information that I want," he said. Now that the opportunity had presented itself, David realized that a live paladin could tell him most of what he wanted to know. Alone with Millie he would have never taken the risk of trying to capture one, but with Griffin…

"You're not hunting paladins," Griffin stated. His face was the usual mask beyond which David couldn't read anything.

"No. I'm looking for my mother."

"Your _mom_ is a paladin," Griffin snarled leaning forward. "She will have you killed on sight."

"I have to find her," David replied. He did not know how far his mother's indulgence towards him would go, but he just couldn't accept that she'd left him and his father, that she secretly kept an eye on him, that she let him run – he couldn't just let it go. He had to talk to her. He had to _know_. He had to know how far she went as a paladin and how far as a mother. He had half a chance of having a mother; he was not going to let it go.

Griffin's gaze narrowed. "Is that what you've been doing this past month since you and your girlfriend fell off the grid?" he questioned. "You've been trying to find a way to stick your head in the lion's den? I've told you before…"

"It's none of your business," David snapped.

"No," Griffin said slowly leaning back into his seat. "It's not," his tone was terse.

"So…," David drawled. "You'll let me play in your diner or do I have to find my own paladin?" he gambled. There was half a chance that Griffin would call his bluff or wouldn't care enough and send him off, but there also was half a chance that the man would buy it. He stared intently at Griffin awaiting his answer.


	7. Never Even

**Summary:** They're so lost in each other - it's dangerous.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.  
**A/N: **Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at **jumperslash** . The prompts I used - #96 _even_ and #46 _I saw god cry in the reflection of my enemies_.  
Also - I know it's been a while, but I still hope you' ll enjoy this ;)

* * *

_**Never Even**_

"Your poker face sucks," Griffin stated sliding lower in his seat.

"Well you're a sucky conversationalist," David retorted. On one hand nothing much had happened during the last month – his biggest discovery was the whole surveillance thing the paladins had going on Griffin. On the other hand – he had had time to calm down, to think over everything that happened during those few, intense days and David felt different. He felt in control of the situation once again.

"That should make us even, don't you think?"

"We're nowhere near even," Griffin said through his teeth. At this point he himself wasn't sure what he meant with that. Chechnya was so far away from where he is now and to be honest that wasn't even the reason why he'd been mad in the first place.

"It was a one night stand. Get over it," David remarked flippantly. It took all he had to keep a straight face after he said that. The words said aloud sounded crueler than they had in his head.

"Nobody rolls _over_ and _away_ as fast as you do, David," Griffin forced himself to smirk. "But that's beside the point. You might be hung over that ... _Thing_ we had, but I actually meant all that_ you trapping me for death_ thing, but of course your ass is more important than my whole fucking life," he spat. „Why am I not surprised?"

Chechnya might not be the reason he's angry with David, but it does make for a convenient cover and, frankly, Griffin does not feel like sharing his abandonment issues or pulling punches.

A month ago David would have been honestly hurt by Griffin's words, now he just faced the truth behind them and acknowledged that maybe he did deserve them after his own comment. The fact that he knew that Griffin said that just to hurt him and Chechnya hadn't been the real issue ever since that night or maybe even before that – well, the understanding didn't really help.

"Because that would require for you to develop a facial expression that isn't scorn," it didn't take long for David to answer.

"College boy thinks he's smart," Griffin sneered.

"Eight grade education, actually," David corrected. He might have snuck into some college courses, but he hadn't officially joined any program. It had never seemed necessary, since he could have all he wanted without a degree or a job. "It doesn't take much to take on you."

Griffin snarled and was about to retort when the window by which they were sitting smashed as electrical wires were shot through it. They both had become distracted with each other and had completely forgotten about the paladins outside who had planned this drop on Griffin for months.

David jumped up on his seat seconds after the window smashed; he lost his balance and fell backwards thus avoiding another electrical charge shot that a paladin had aimed at his back. Griffin fell under the table and quickly counted the paladins in the small diner.

He knew that there were five paladins here today. Two were by the entrance; he guessed that another might be coming through the back door which meant that two were still outside. Hoping that David won't get himself killed before he had this sorted out Griffin jumped. He appeared outside behind a pair of paladins and grabbed the neck of the closest guy quickly turning his head and effectively snapping his neck. He jumped again, before the other paladin could electrocute or shoot him.

Meanwhile David shook his head to get past the shock to the system when he landed on his back on the table of the booth beside theirs. He didn't look around, he just jumped. He appeared by the door behind the two paladins who had stormed the diner through the front entrance. He didn't get to do anything, because they reacted quickly turning to face him. He was at gunpoint before he could blink.

In right that moment Griffin jumped back into the diner right on the counter. "Pushovers!" he yelled pushing some plates to the floor with his foot for more noise and distraction.

A paladin was holding David at gunpoint, his colleague who had been about to hit David with electricity was distracted by Griffin. David used the moment to push the gun aside and punch the guy in the face before jumping again. He didn't jump far. He appeared a step above the ground beside the paladin who held him at gunpoint. In his fall David managed to elbow the guy in his face making him drop the gun. David fell to the ground in a crouch, grabbed the gun and jumped again.

Once he saw David jump, Griffin left too. He jumped to the backdoor which unsurprisingly was open. He entered carefully, but didn't see anyone until he was hit by electricity. He knew that trying to jump while his brain was being fried was useless, so he tried to gain control of his convulsing body.

The paladin smirked approaching him, "_Oooh_, I'm gonna get a promotion when I kill _you_," the woman cooed stopping barely a step from him.

Griffin kicked her ankle with all the strength he had making her drop to the floor with a cry and release the hold on her weapon. He stood trembling lightly and kicked her in the stomach. "I'm gonna get a burger when I kill you," he informed her grabbing the struggling paladin by her coat collar.

He was back in the kitchen five minutes later, "Crazy bitch," he muttered brushing ash off his pants and dropping off his slashed jacket. The woman had produced a knife from virtually nowhere and they had had a struggle atop Mt. Fuji.

David jumped outside and barely managed to dive aside from the electric net thing that the paladin by the smashed window threw at him. At the same time the woman from the diner exited with the guy whose nose David had just broken. All three advanced to him with careful, determined steps.

David crawled backwards a few steps and was about to jump when he was hit by electricity. He wheezed trying to get more air into his lungs. In the past month he had also managed to forget how much it hurt to be hit by one of these paladin toys. He rolled on the ground trying to alleviate the pain to no avail when his hand cramped around the gun and he remembered that he has a weapon too.

He didn't really aim when he pulled the trigger – all three of the paladins were close and it didn't really matter to him _where_ he shot them. Luckily the safety was already off and the gun did fire. He hit the woman who had been by the window, she dropped down, but nothing changed – he was still being electrocuted. He rapidly fired off six other shots and then suddenly everything stopped.


	8. Bloodbath

**Warnings:** Violence (lots of death, no main chars)**  
****Summary:** David is not a murderer. Except, he is.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.  
**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at jumperslash . The prompts I used - #57. _cacophony _and #14. _deadly precision_.

* * *

_**Bloodbath**_

David forced himself to sit up. He was trembling and sincerely wanted nothing more than to just collapse on the ground, but he had to see what he had done. He crawled over to the woman who held a shiny metallic thing in her hand – he knew that that was the electric weapon. She was lying on her face and there was a rapidly growing pool of blood around her. He carefully turned her over only to fall back in shock – there was a big bloody hole where her nose was supposed to be. He had shot her in the face.

"Oh, my god," he gasped. He tore his gaze away from the macabre sight and tried to stand on his shaky legs. He walked or rather, stumbled over to the man who was lying on his back. The paladin's eyes were open and his breathing was shallow, accompanied by a wheezy sound. David saw blood gurgling at the corner of the man's mouth.

Along with blood and spit the paladin also coughed out a word, "Murderer."

David swallowed forcefully. He stood over the man and counted the bullet holes in the man's body. Three. One in chest, one amongst ribs and one in leg. That makes altogether four hits. He must have fired the other two in the air. Just four hits and such a devastation.

"I'm not…," he protested quietly. "I will help you," he promised. "I just need to check, if.." he gestured to the third body lying on the ground a few meters from them.

He walked over to the woman he had shot first. She was lying on her side, her eyes closed. He dropped to his knees beside her and laid his hand on her neck. Her pulse was weak, but she was still alive. David turned her on her back and saw the freely bleeding stomach wound. He finally dropped the gun in his left hand and pressed both of his palms against her wound to stop the bleeding.

"You're going to be alright," he said shakily to the unconscious woman.

He glanced around, but there was no sign of Griffin or any other paladins except another dead one a few meters from him. David knew that the man was dead, because his head was turned the wrong way – the sight was sickening.

He took a deep breath trying to get enough focus to jump when movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention. The paladin who was still alive and conscious had crawled over to his partner and was looking at her face in shock and disgust.

"I'm so sorry," David said desperately.

The paladin didn't answer, just looked at David with eyes so filled of hate it made David shudder. The paladin reached for the electric weapon and jerked it out of the woman's death grip.

"Don't," David pleaded. "Please don't," he asked.

The paladin raised his hand with his last strength and aimed the weapon at David. David didn't think he just let go of the woman he was trying to save, took up the gun again and fired three times. Only one shot landed, but it was enough. The paladin collapsed on his already dead colleague; David had shot him right between the eyes.

David's hand trembled as he dropped the gun. He had promised to save that man. He took three quick breaths; he _still _had a person to save. He pushed again against the wound on the woman's stomach. He tried to imagine a hospital, any hospital, but he couldn't hold a single image in his mind – all were fleeting.

He didn't have time, damn it. He tried to jump, but he couldn't. Whenever he imagined an emergency room, a hallway, a simple hospital room – anything, the image shifted as soon as he tried to hold on to it. _He couldn't jump_.

"No!" he cried. "No! I can do this," he told himself. "I can do this."

His hands were red with blood almost to the elbows. He kept pushing against the hole in the paladin's stomach not noticing that the blood wasn't flowing like before, not noticing that the woman was already dead.

-

Coming out of the kitchen Griffin caught a sight of David outside the diner and he grinned. He walked out of the diner with a bang and a loud complaint about his ruined jacket when he finally noticed the carnage _around_ David. Involuntary he grimaced at the mess.

He knew he had to tread carefully and not because of the dead bodies and blood spilt all around, but because of David. The younger man was covered in blood up to his elbows. The young woman he was trying to save was obviously dead. Griffin summoned as much sympathy as he was capable of over a death of a paladin and gingerly approached David.

"Come on!" David muttered under his breath. "Come on! I can do this! I can…"

Griffin kneeled by David's side. "Mate, you do know – she's dead."

David finally noticed Griffin's presence. He shook his head madly. "She can't be. I'm not a murderer, I'll save her!"

Griffin sighed. "This is the first time you killed somebody?"

"No!" David protested violently. "No! No! No, I didn't kill anyone. I'm not a murderer, I didn't...," he let go of the dead woman and fell backwards on his ass. "I promised that I would save her."

"Well, she promised that she'll kill you," Griffin said quietly. He looked around and did a headcount. Four dead paladins here and one cooking in a volcano - sounded about right.

"I'm not a murderer," David voiced it as a question.

"No, you're not. You're alive, that's what you are," Griffin said strongly. "She's a paladin and you're a jumper. Our kinds _don't _mix. Yeah, you killed them, but if you hadn't they'd killed you, now stop whining and get your shit together. The fact that you offed a few psychos does not make you a murderer," he meant to sound kinder, but who knew how long before others showed up. Where there was a paladin, others were always nearby.

This was a diner on wheels in the midst of nowhere. Griffin had jumped it here a few months ago for this specific showdown. There was nobody here, but them. When David had pretended to be a waiter previously – Griffin had actually thought that he was talking to a paladin. So, he hazarded a guess that it would take a while for other paladins to get here if _this_ pathetic bunch had called for back-up, but to be honest, Griffin didn't want to stick around to find out.


	9. Murderer

**Warnings:** Language.**  
****Summary: **Griffin really does think that all of this is unnecessary.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.  
**A/N:** Response to the 100 Fic Ultimate Challenge at jumperslash . The prompts I used - #87. morose and #9. never say never.

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**Murderer**

David struggled against Griffin through three jumps before he managed to break free and fall on his ass. "I... You..." he was breathing heavily, barely managing to say anything articulate in-between the gasps. His tunnel vision was focused on Griffin. The last vestiges of his oxygen starved sanity were focused on spitting out a guilt ridden confession for the crimes he'd just committed.

Griffin kneeled in front of him and shook his head annoyed and worried at the same time. Before David could crawl out of his reach, Griffin grabbed him by his collar and did the only thing he could think of to shut the other man up. He pressed his lips against David's open mouth, crushing the soft flesh against the other man's teeth. He didn't wait for David to react, he opened wider, took control, slipped his tongue in David's mouth and did his best to suck the panic out.

David's hair was so short, it was easier to hold him by his ears and neck. Griffin dragged his tongue across the roof of David's mouth making him jump a little, making him react. David moaned and Griffin swallowed the sound just as David's eyes rolled close, his body relaxed and insistent hands started to tug at Griffin's jacket.

Griffin pulled away pressing a smooching kiss against the corner of David's mouth before letting go of him completely. "So did I manage to kiss the sanity back into the Sleeping Beauty?" he asked, smirking.

It took David a moment before he could gather his wits enough to answer. "Bastard," he muttered, but didn't try to back away. The kiss wasn't something he'd expected to happen, he didn't know what to think about it, but he couldn't _not_ think about it, and judging by Griffin's self-satisfied expression it was exactly what the other jumper had intended.

"What else is new?" Griffin shot back, unconcerned.

David felt like an overloaded hard-drive. Or at least he figured that this is the way an overloaded HDD would feel, if it could feel. "I'm a murderer," he stated, quietly and the thought made him sick. Made him want to gag, but his tongue only had to slip against his swollen lips for his brain to short-cut back to the kiss Griffin had just given him and that made him feel... Well, he wasn't sure what that made him feel, which is why he was so confused, since he had classified the thing between him and Griffin as a one off. One-night/day stand, but he wasn't sure that that was what he wanted or that it was what it seemed to be, and...

"If I'm gonna have to kiss you again, I'll think you're doing this on purpose," Griffin said.

"You're just looking for an excuse," David automatically replied and scrambled a bit back to stand up.

Griffin stood with him. "Killing makes you horny. I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm not horny!" David protested. "You're infuriating and I... _You_ kissed _me_!" he accused.

"Yeah," Griffin easily conceded.

The confession took the wind out of David's sails. "Why?" he asked, taking a look around the place for the first time since they'd gotten here. He blinked. They were in Griffin's lair.

Griffin sighed. "You won't like the answer," he replied simply.

David frowned, but accepted the answer without further questions. He really didn't need more to deal with. He felt his heart speed up at the casual thought that – _he had just killed three people. _Suddenly his legs felt like they were made of jelly. He collapsed on the closest piece of rubble and forced himself to take a deep breath. "Why here?"

"I moved out. They've been over the place. They won't look for us here. Not for a while, anyway."

David nodded. His legs felt light, his head felt heavy. He groaned and hid his face in his hands. He stayed like that for a few minutes. He felt Griffin's gaze on him, but neither of them said anything, well, David knew that Griffin wasn't much of a talker and he was the one with the issues here anyway. He just didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what he felt aside from schock and guilt. If Milly could see him now.. _If she knew what he'd just done..._

"I've never killed anyone before," he finally admitted, what felt like an eternity later.

"Wasn't as hard as you might have thought, huh?" and David could _hear_ the smirk in Griffin's voice.

"Can you not be such a git?" he asked looking up. He knew he must look like a mess with red, crazed eyes, swollen lips and dirt smeared across his face. He almost added 'please'. Almost.

"Would it make you feel better?" Griffin asked, seriously, with arms crossed on his chest.

"I, honestly, don't know," David admitted. "I killed people today," his panic was under control, but the heaviness was still there – in his stomach, in his mind. He looked down at the floor.

Griffin rolled his eyes. In his mind Paladins weren't worth the mental anguish David pas putting himself through, but the other man seemed to think it was appropriate to fret and mourn the beasts that hunted them simply for the fact that they existed. As much as he wished, Griffin couldn't kiss stupidity out of David, no matter how helpful that might be.

"I'm hungry. Gonna go grab a burger," he refrained from saying that he'd promised the bitch he killed that he'd toast her passing with a nice double cheesburger. "You stay here and... Well, just stay here. We're safe here for a few days."

David pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and didn't bother replying. He didn't feel like crying and that just made him feel worse – he _wanted_ to cry for what he'd done.

Griffin huffed and walked over to David. He grabbed the other man's chin and forced David to look up at him. "If I come back and you're gone..." he paused and seemed to rethink what he wanted to say. "If I have to go and hunt your suicidal, guilty ass down, when I come back, being a murderer is going to be the least of your worries. Got that?"

David thought about arguing, about being defiant, but he just didn't have the strength anymore. "Sure. I'll stay here," he agreed, hating himself for how easy he gave in.

Griffin jumped.


End file.
